


Eddy's in the Space-Time Continuum

by skripka



Category: Farscape, Firefly
Genre: Gen, gratuitous H2G2 reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-03
Updated: 2003-05-03
Packaged: 2019-10-26 02:31:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17737337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skripka/pseuds/skripka
Summary: There'salwaysa bar somewhere.





	Eddy's in the Space-Time Continuum

Eddy’s was a run down bar, in a run down city, on a run down planet. Crichton examined it, and decided it looked homey enough. The smoke and dust of the room coalesced around his head immediately as he entered.

The sign over the shadowed bar read, “Payment must be rendered in advance. No credit. EVER!” Ever was emphasized in red, underlined, circled, and even had a couple of stars illustrating a couple of letters.

Squeezing into a spot near a blonde man wearing a overly loud shirt over an orange flight suit, he waved at the hulking bartender.

“Whaddya want?”

“What you got?” He placed a few bills on the bar.

Grunting, the bartender rolled his eyes. “Got anything you want. This here place is special.”

“Right.” Crichton rolled his eyes, feeling a bit reckless. “Mai-tai, then.” 

“Umbrella or without?”

Sputtering, John asked, “Umbrella?” but the bartender had already walked off, returning a short moment later with a fancy glass and, lo and behold, a pink umbrella. 

Peering around, John took a sip of the froufrou drink. It was darn tasty.

“That’s a pretty drink,” the blonde man turned and glanced at the umbrella. “Mechanic on my ship’s got one just like that.”

Crichton looked down, “What, the drink?”

“Naw, the umbrella.”

“Ah.” John was becoming less sure about things by the minute. This bar was definitely a bit odd. Deciding it would be a fine thing to at least pretend to be friendly, he asked, “What are you drinking?”

“Some ~~crap~~ called Mudder’s Milk.” The man looked morosely at the ceramic bottle in front of him. “Took the bartender’s word as a challenge. So I ordered the most vile, most horrific thing I could think of. Zoe’s gonna kick my ~~ass~~ for wasting good coin.”

There was a fizzle in John’s ear during part of that speech, “Excuse me, did you just say something in Chinese?”

“What, ~~crap~~? Or ~~ass~~?” The fizzle again. “Dunno how come you don’t recognize it. Thought most everybody in the ‘verse spoke some.”

“It’s just that I’m not, you know, used to hearing human languages out here.” Reconsidering, he muttered, “Or having them forcibly translated for me.”

“What other languages are there?” Brow furrowed, the man looked at him like he was crazy.

“Doesn’t really matter.” Crichton put his drink down, and glared back for a moment. Suddenly, he decided it wasn’t worth it, and held out a hand. “Name’s John Crichton. I’m from a planet called Earth.”

Wagging his finger and shaking his head, the other man laughed. “Earth! That’s a good one…” He took another sip of the ‘milk,’ and sputtered some. “I’m Wash, and I’m from some godforsaken rock with no stars, and now I live on a beautiful spaceship with my beautiful wife and a ~~bastard~~ for a captain.”

There was that frelling fizzle again. “Would you please stop with the Chinese?”

“Um, no?” Wash was genuinely confused now, and looked at his bottle. “Damn milk goes straight to my head. Jayne is gonna laugh his head off.”

John just stared off into space. Microbes were screwing up, he could have sworn this Wash had just called a Jane a him. No matter. “This Jane, she your wife?”

The thick white liquor came out of his companion’s mouth in a startled spray. “Jayne? . . . God, no!!” Wiping his mouth, he looked at Crichton like he was crazier than before, and pointed to his own chest with his damp thumb. “Married to Zoe. Proudly married to my Zoe. Forever. Yup.”

“Then, Jane’s the mechanic with the, you know,” John illustrated by twirling the umbrella around.

Wash was laughing uncontrollably by now, muttering some nonsense about apes and boxes and things gone wrong.

“This is a frelling weird bar.” Crichton leaned back, and stated to no one in particular.

**Author's Note:**

> for the LJ community Farscape Friday. Previously titled "Gorram Microbes."


End file.
